


The Road to Ruin

by DailyDaves



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: (but no actual character death), Hunger Games AU, M/M, Talk of Character Death, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DailyDaves/pseuds/DailyDaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s one winner. There’s <i>always</i> one winner. And Dan's going to make sure he's not it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Ruin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elsetetra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsetetra/gifts).



> Another request from tumblr. This time it was "Person A and Person B are the only two left in the survival games, and only one can win." Cross-posted to tumblr here: http://burnvins.co.vu/post/90399456197/what-if-danvin-for-9-tho-i-mean-who-doesnt-love-some
> 
> by the way, I take requests here, too. Feel free to leave some or message me with some.

"So, what do we do, B?"

Everyone’s gonna hear it. They’re the only two left. There’s no use in hiding it anymore.

Gavin glances over at him, raising an eyebrow, “Dig a hole under the arena? Maybe we can get out. Kill all those good for nothing capital bastards.”

His fingers tighten around Dan’s hand and the grass feels nice against his skin and Dan knows this is the last moment of peace they have. His neck’s still bleeding from the wound the last tribute had given him, and the blood’s still dripping off of the arrow in Gavin’s other hand where he’d shot the same tribute. They’re the only two left, the other tribute bleeding out as the two of them lay in the grass nearby with their hands intertwined.

It’s the first time the remaining two have been from the same district in a long, long time. This year’s special for the Quarter Quell was double tributes, drawing four from each district. Dan and Gavin were childhood friends and then lovers, though they’d kept that from the media. Now, there was no one to hide from.

He can almost _feel_ all the cameras on them. There’s no one left to follow, no one more interesting than the two boys from the same district who’d acted as if they showed no connection to each other, holding hands after killing their last enemy. He wants to kiss Gavin, slow and languid, just like he had so many times before. He’ll wait, though, just a few more moments, mostly for Gavin’s sake.

Gavin liked to be dramatic. So he’ll make it dramatic.

"Mm, good idea, B," Dan hums, smiling at him. He wonders how much of this was being aired and how much was being censored. It’s too interesting to just not be shown, but he doesn’t know if they could censor out their talk of killing everyone in the capital. "Dunno how deep down the arena goes, though. Looks pretty solid to me."

Gavin only answers with a mischievous grin and a squeeze around Dan’s hand, and then they both go back to watching the sky.

The canon fires after a few moments and then, they’re truly the only two left.

Gavin’s thumb is running over Dan’s knuckles, and he doesn’t look at Dan when he quietly murmurs, “We’re just kids, Dan.”

"They were," Dan agrees, remembering all the tributes, all the names he’d seen up in the sky during the nights, all the kids he’d hurt in the name of whatever it was these games stood for. 

"No," Gavin surprises him, holding Dan’s hand tight. "We all are. We all were."

He knew Gavin was right—he always was. Dan had turned seventeen while they were training just before the arena. Gavin had turned seventeen a week before the reaping.

"Do you ever think about it?" Gavin goes on quietly just as they begin to hear the telltale loud whirring noise. "All of this—I mean. Why we have to kill all these kids. Is it just so people can laugh at us? Pretty shit entertainment, if you ask me. I know you never liked watching the games. Neither did I."

Dan doesn’t say anything; their relationship is like that. He likes to let Gavin talk, nodding to show him he’s listening, looking over at him. He remembers years of watching the games with Gavin, of Gavin coming over to his house during the mandatory watching days, when they’d sit together under the same blanket, usually more interested in each other than whatever was going on on the television.

Blood, gore, and glory. That was all the games were, usually more of the former two than the latter. Gavin had thrown up more than once while they watched the games together, with the amount of gore they showed, yet they had probably censored out Gavin’s ‘shit’. It was ridiculous—they could show kids murdering each other, but they couldn’t let a swear slip.

"We’re just a bunch of kids stuck in a goddamn bubble and we’re all just trying to get out," Gavin tells him, his voice getting louder as the whirring grows closer. It roots a deep-set fear in Dan’s stomach, because he knows that either this is the last hovercraft he’ll ever hear or there’ll be one more, and both prospects are terrifying.

One’s more terrifying than the other, though. He’d sooner die than let Gavin do so. He doesn’t know if he could _stand_ to hear the hovercraft again, because he knows what that’ll mean.

The sky opens up and a familiar sight comes into view.

He can feel Gavin’s heartbeat quickening under his fingertips and he goes silent. Dan glances over at him and finds Gavin watching the sky with huge eyes, watching as the hovercraft lowers itself, the grass blowing around them and Dan can feel the wind pick up from the vacuum it creates.

He doesn’t say anything, just rolling onto his side and drawing his other hand up Gavin’s side, feeling his ribs through his jacket, his scrawniness and the lack of muscle Gavin has, even now. He’s slow about it, watching Gavin’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into him. His fingers settle at Gavin’s hip, his other hand still wrapped around Gavin’s, and Gavin lifts his head just slightly to meet him.

The whirring is the only thing Dan can hear when his lips meet Gavin’s for the first time in what feels like months. He kisses him long and languidly, moving his lips against Gavin’s as they fit so easily together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Through the whirring, he hears a metallic noise, and he knows the dead tribute is gone. He pulls Gavin closer against him, until he’s all Dan can feel and all he ever wants to feel, and he never wants this moment to end.

Gavin likes dramatic, so Dan made it dramatic. After all, what’s more dramatic than making out in the last hours of the game while the last tribute is taken away? It’s their big reveal and Dan finds himself wondering how the nation’s reacting. There’s no way to know now, and best case scenario, he’ll never know.

Gavin pulls away from him after the whirring is long gone and Dan’s got him in his arms now and they’re tangled together, limbs in a mess around each other. It makes Dan forget about the capital and the districts and the games and he no longer cares about what the rest of the world thinks because Gavin’s face is nestled against his neck and he’s whispering into him.

"One of us is gonna die."

The words feel warm against his neck, in stark contrast to what they mean. It’s a fact; there’s no way to dispute it or argue against it. There’s one winner. There’s _always_ one winner.

"It’s not gonna be you," Dan’s voice is a little muffled as he presses his face into Gavin’s hair. The finale’s coming up. This is the last little bit of peace that they have before the storm.

"No," Gavin murmurs. "No, Dan. I don’t want you to die. I won’t be able to fight, anyways. I hide in trees and stay out of conflict and trick people with words. The enemies in the finale aren’t human. None of that will work on them. I’m not strong like you are."

"I’ll protect you," Dan promises him immediately. That’s been his plan from the start and when he and Gavin teamed up, they were seen as a team that could stop even the careers, with Gavin’s brain and Dan’s brute strength. But that doesn’t matter when they’re the only two left.

"No," Gavin says more firmly and Dan usually listens to him, but not now. "No, you should live. I don’t want you to die just so I can live. That isn’t right."

"None of this is right, Gav!" He says it louder and angrier than he means to and he can hear his own voice echoing through the small meadow. Gavin stiffens and then curls further into Dan, hiding his face and gripping his jacket with both hands. Dan’s almost tempted to force Gavin to look at him, but he doesn’t. He can tell Gavin doesn’t want the cameras to see him and he wants to give him the choice of whether or not they do.

He takes a deep breath, trying to get himself to calm down. It isn’t the time or the place to be angry at Gavin, “Listen. You had dreams. There were things you wanted to do and things you wanted to be. You had aspirations, dreams, whatever. I know it isn’t right, but one of us is gonna have to die and it’s not going to be you.”

The first sob is the hardest to bare against him, the most difficult to witness, because Gavin _doesn’t cry_ , he’s never cried before and he’s only crying now because he doesn’t want to lose Dan.

"I volunteered for a reason, B. And it wasn’t to save the other guy who got picked," He speaks softly to him, running his fingers through Gavin’s hair. This is the hardest decision he’s ever had to make, harder even than the one he made at the reaping.

Actually, that was the easiest decision he’d ever made. Gavin was the only person he had. His best friend, his partner, his lover. Gavin was his family, the person he loved more than anything. He’d volunteered without a second thought, unable to volunteer for Gavin, since Gavin had volunteered for his brother.

"I love you," Gavin chokes out between sobs, his tears seeping through Dan’s jacket. "I do. I love you. If—If you hadn’t volunteered, if you hadn’t—if you’d just stayed there—we could’ve—if you hadn’t, Dan—"

"You wouldn’t be here right now," There’s this horrible pang in his heart when he says it, but it’s the truth. Gavin’s all brains and stealth and Dan’s all strength and muscle and they both would’ve died had it not been for the other. He doesn’t blame Gavin for being angry, though. Gavin couldn’t have let his brother die in the arena, but Dan couldn’t have let Gavin do so, either.

Gavin takes a shaking breath and sobs shake him, but he doesn’t say anything more and they both know Dan’s right.

There’s tears in Dan’s eyes, too, but he forces them to not fall, not now when the whole world can see him and when Gavin needs him.

"Promise me you’ll do everything we talked about," He whispers, close to Gavin’s ear, hoping it was too low for the cameras to pick up. "Promise me you’ll tell everyone about how wrong this is. Promise me you’ll do everything you ever wanted to."

Dan’s different from Gavin. Gavin had dreams and Dan didn’t. Gavin’s life was worth more than Dan’s was. He could tell people. Gavin was charismatic and good at making people like him. He could do it and Dan believed he could when Gavin nodded, shaking and trembling and crying.

And then Dan told him the first lie he’d told him since the beginning of this entire thing, his own voice breaking as the tears fell, “It’s gonna be alright.”


End file.
